


chaotic good

by rollingplains



Category: Men in Black (Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship/Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rollingplains/pseuds/rollingplains
Summary: or, how she found her way back to London.
Relationships: Agent H | Henry/Agent M | Molly Wright
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	chaotic good

**Author's Note:**

> Is anyone even in this fandom anymore? Anyway, here it is, over a year since the movie came out and since I watched it. Whoever's in here, enjoy.

She doesn't even need to look up.

"Well, as I live and breathe!"

She plants her elbow onto her desk and rests her chin on her hand to look up at him. "You're acting like you're surprised to see me, and not like you messaged me a couple days ago to say you were dropping in."

His smile widens (how is that even possible). "You're a sharp one! Always liked that about you."

She rolls her eyes but can't help a smile herself. "What can I do you for?"

"What, I can't catch up with an old friend?"

She ignores the fact that they knew each other for about three weeks. Truly, it felt like longer. In a way that wasn't entirely bad. "You...you there," she says, waving her hand in his general direction, "...you're moving like you've got business to attend to. Not like—" she schools her face into a vacant smile and gestures loosely with her limbs, pointing and hamming it up in a rough approximation of how he moved around.

"Is that what you think I look like?"

"Just tell me what you want!" she says impatiently. He waggles his eyebrows and tosses a dossier on her desk in response. "This better be good, she mutters, skimming its content. "Juicy," she admits when she's done.

"Would I come all this way for anything less? You in?"

"Shut up," she grumbles, grabbing her jacket and swooping past him, forcing him to follow her. "Do you even need to ask?"  
  


* * *

"I feel massively alive!"

She looks over at him, mouth agape. Of course he had resurfaced from the club with nothing more than a stain on his elbow. She on the other hand, was covered in alien protoplasm.

"I mean, mission _not_ accomplished, but whew, the fun we had!"

She glares at him and wordlessly lets the glowing locket dangle from her hand until he notices (this takes some time). He lets his mouth drop open in partly feigned shock.

"You...you are something else! How did you do it?"

"Wasn't hard," she mumbles. "Not when she was totally, 100%, head over heels into you. Barely even noticed when I—" she clicks her tongue and mimes a little flick to mimic undoing the clasp.

"Well then! You must come back with me. I could hardly take all the credit for that! To be honest, I don't think they'd believe me if I did." He checks his watch. "The last express back to London is in 20 minutes. Let's hustle!"

She wonders if he'll ever stop speaking in exclamation marks. "Oh no. I'm not showing up like this. I'm going back home for a shower and a nap. Maybe a snack. Then we'll talk." 

He looks at her for the first time since their exit from the club. "Hmm. I see your point. Oh well, all right then. I'll, uh..."

She bites her lip to suppress a smile. She likes this slightly thrown version of him over the whole man with a plan shtick that he relies on way too often. "You'll come back with me and get a few hours in yourself," she finishes for him. "Plus," she says, wiping a copious amount of slime on his jacket, "you need to get cleaned up. Come on," she prods him. "My apartment is that way."   
  


* * *

  
"You don't look half bad in my shirt," she says, and she means it. 

"I'll be honest, I never saw myself as a—" he looks down and squints at the text "—'Fun Run' kind of guy. Weren't you supposed to dispose of any and all identifying personal effects?"

"Mm, I must have felt sentimental about it." 

"Please don't tell me its from an old boyfriend. My heart can't take it."

"Shut up," she says, even though she's smiling and her cheeks are warm. Keep him guessing, she figures, even though it was nothing more than a shirt from a team building exercise. The only thing she owned that was huge enough to fit him. 

"I'll torture myself all night thinking about it!"

"You're lucky I can't order you out of my room."

"And I'm grateful, I'd be in the hallway otherwise," he says, glancing around her tiny studio apartment. 

She sighs. Her place was pathetically small, it was true. "Can you deal?" she asks, gesturing to the bed. "It's a king..." (she had figured she deserved one even if it took up her entire place). She doesn't wait for his response. "Just get in."   
  


* * *

  
She's replaying the events of their night in her head when-

"Just tell me."

"No!"  
  


* * *

  
She could tell that O, C, and the rest of the alphabet in London were more than sufficiently impressed with their find, despite their unflappable exteriors. 

She still hadn't grasped the full significance of the necklace despite what felt like a dozen meetings, and makes a mental note to review the case file again when C shows up at her temporary desk.

"Good work as always, M," he says, before pausing for a beat. "I see H is getting the band back together. To be honest we were all wondering how long it'd take."

"What do you mean?"

"Before we'd see you again." She follows C gaze over to H, who's deep in conversation with a few of his colleagues. He looks up and flashes her a quick smile, as if he sensed her stare. C shrugs. "Forget I said anything."   
  


* * *

"So I was thinking," he says.

"Ooh, don't hurt yourself," she says, as the bartender serves them up a beer each. 

"I was thinking," he says pointedly, glaring at her for interrupting, "that now it's two big wins for you. At this point, you could probably ask for just about anything..." he raises his eyebrows as if it should be completely obvious where he's going with this. 

She waits. When he glances at her, she gives him a _get on with it_ look. 

He sighs. "Ever think about transferring to London?" he asks, like he didn't want to say it out loud, like it'd conjure up something he wasn't quite ready for. His tone is one she's never heard from him before and she has to work to place it. Like her answer matters.

 _Yes._ In any case, her immediate, gut reaction surprises her and she's glad she has the wherewithal to squash the impulse and respond smoothly. _All the time, actually._ "Maybe. Depends who's asking."

He's recovered now, any trace of his previous vulnerability gone and he's smiling broadly. "The director of the London branch." 

_Where do I sign?_ "Mm. Do you think it'd be a career limiting move to say no?"

"Definitely. He'd hold it against you forever. Get ready for a lifetime of bean counting and paper pushing. Better not risk it." 

She studies him for a second. "Missed me that bad, huh?"

He shrugs. "You could say you've converted me on this whole working as partners thing." 

"I hear C's available."

He groans. "I'm going to pretend you never said that," he says, and she giggles. 

So you want me to uproot my entire life because you two can't play nice in the sandbox?"

"What life? You gave yours up when you decided to join us."

She decides to continue humouring him. "OK. Say I go. You're telling me they'd let some nobody work alongside an executive level staff member?"

"Who's 'they'?" he makes little air quotes.

"The people in charge."

"That would be me now."

She may have lived a life of logic but she didn't get to where she was by playing it safe, either. "Well, I'm fresh out of objections. Let's do this."

He's a bit taken aback, like he was expecting to have to wear her down further on this. "I'm serious."

"I know. Your sad face is making it very clear."

"I am not- he starts in mock indignation before he trails off. "It...hasn't been the same," he tries to explain, "since you-"

She cuts him off before he can finish (she's not ready to hear it). "I know," she says again.

**Author's Note:**

> In my headcanon, they'll later become besties and occasional eff-buddies but nothing more. Well, maybe like yeeeaaars down the road.


End file.
